


Save A Dance

by Dajra



Series: The Wind and the Tree [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dajra/pseuds/Dajra
Summary: “Aren’t you just mistaking your own remorse for that of someone else?” His words startles her gaze to his, the smile on his face nothing like the façades she had seen him wear in her early days at the monastery. It’s soft—a fondness that she could only dream of matching.(Byleth has a lot to process after waking up from her five-year slumber, but she's lucky to have someone to break her chain of thoughts.)
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Series: The Wind and the Tree [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582063
Comments: 10
Kudos: 103





	Save A Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd, so I'll come back for any mistakes as I find them.

Five years.  
  
She had been told that it had been five years since she was last seen. Five years since the Empire marched their assault against the monastery. Five years since she fell from that crumbling ledge, the sound of a ghastly roar ringing in her ears.  
  
And though all the signs were there, it was still hard for her mind to wrap around the fact that five years had gone on without her.  
  
Byleth stood atop the Goddess Tower, serving as a perfect perch to survey the passage of time. The crumbling walls crawled with ivy, the still ruined town at the base of the monastery now hosted bandits instead of families. The halls that once echoed with the sounds of footsteps, filled with the chattering of students and the chanting of monks now only housed the sound of wind whistling through cracks in the foundation.  
  
The yesterday she remembered looked nothing like the today she faced.  
  
Her students—well, they were more her _peers_ now than students—had tried their best to catch her up on the events that transpired during her absence. Their millennium festival “ _feast”_ had been nothing more than an amalgamation of the travel rations everyone had brought with them, but it was filled with rich conversation. From the reports of the Empire’s march and the fall of the Kingdom, to the delicate balance of the Alliance, and even the state of Dorte’s now grown foal and Leonie’s drinking contests with Jeralt’s former mercenaries. Everything that they had held onto to share with her was relayed.  
  
And...despite the heavy weight of most of the news they had to impart upon her, every word was spoken with an air of nonchalance. As if it was a mere afterthought to her return, the conversation endlessly circling back to the overall relief of her well-being.  
  
Something about that brought uneasiness to her stomach, a feeling she couldn’t shake crawling up her spine. She dismissed herself from their merriment, chalking her departure up to the events of the day making her weary.  
  
Exhaustion ate at her bones, it was true. But she couldn’t bring herself to sleep, the uneasiness she felt making her too restless to retire to her room. Instead she had found herself here atop the Goddess Tower, watching time pass by with her own eyes as she tried to parse through her thoughts.  
  
“Sleep evade you, my friend?”  
  
A familiar yet unfamiliar voice—deeper than it was in her yesterday, but holding the same lilting timbre of amusement she remembered—jolted her from her thoughts. Byleth kept her eyes on expansive view before her, feeling the cold at her side being replaced by the warmth Claude’s body provided as he drew up next to her. “Or perhaps you’ve had enough sleep to last you a while?”  
  
Byleth spares him a glance. She notes his easy smile, the casual way he leans against the railing—that gleam in his eyes that always shone when he was puzzling through a challenge before him. All parts of the Claude she remembered.  
  
All of her students—though now more grown than the last time she had seen them—still held onto aspects she recognized.  
  
And yet something akin bile still rose in her throat, forcing her to turn away from him, looking back into the distance. It was a strange mixture of emotions that she had yet to fully untangle since she awoke that clawed at her insides. Hard to understand, but harder to put into words.  
  
She’s not sure how long they stood in silence as she sorted her thoughts. Claude seemed not to mind, remaining a steadying presence at her side. The next time she chances a glance, his gaze seemed to have followed hers, staring down at the dark village below them.  
  
“Don’t you resent me?”  
  
The words leave her lips before she realizes the thought had formed in her mind, before she could put a name to the discomfort she held on to. The bile in her throat was worry—was _regret_. A regret that she could not be there for the people she cared about the most as the world around them changed irrevocably. They had been forced to grow, to toss away their youth and adapt to a world which aimed to swallow them whole if they did not bend.  
  
All of them had grown strong despite the circumstances, had resisted the weight that threatened to crush them in order to come together once again with smiles on their faces and hope in their eyes.  
  
But how were those smiles yesterday? How was that hope five years ago when she had left them all without a word?  
  
How could they offer those smiles to a woman who had done nothing to support them through the upheaval that had overtaken their lives?  
  
How could she deserve them?  
  
How could she make it up to them?  
  
Byleth is unsure if she’s grateful or not that she can’t see Claude’s expression, his face still turned to the scene below them—but an anxiety she had never felt before forces her eyes away, staring unseeing at space before her.  
  
It could have been mere moments or hours before the brush of fabric breaks through her thoughts, the nudge of his elbow pressing the breath she had been holding from her lungs.  
  
“Aren’t you just mistaking your own remorse for that of someone else?” His words startles her gaze to his, the smile on his face nothing like the façades she had seen him wear in her early days at the monastery. It’s soft—a fondness that she could only dream of matching. “All of us are just grateful that you’re back.”  
  
He speaks with a conviction that leaves little room for argument—but her traitorous inexperience with emotions still brings up doubts. “But I left you. All of you.”  
  
The quirk of his brow contrasts the furrow in hers. “Would you have left us if you had a choice?”  
  
“No.” The answer is immediate, needing no time to consider because there was no other conclusion for her to come to.  
  
Claude’s smile only grows wider, turning his body so he can fully face her. “Then why would we hold you to something outside of your control?”  
  
She feels her brows pinch, working through another tangle of her emotions—but before she can think to speak up again, Claude plows on. “I won’t lie, Teach. The years without you have been rough, and there have been plenty of times that I found myself wishing for your guidance. But,” he raises a hand before a sound can leave her lips, halting the words on her tongue before they can fully form, “I have never once felt resentment towards you. Wishing to see someone and resenting someone’s absence are not two sides of the same coin.”  
  
With those words something eases in her, a dark cloud lifting from her thoughts. There’s still the bubble of emotion she now knows as guilt deep in her chest, but it’s so overpowered by her appreciation—her pride in her students that had grown into such strong adults—that she hardly even notices the lingering regret.  
  
The tension on her face melts away, a small smile of her own trying to convey even the smallest bit of the overwhelming gratitude she feels. Claude’s smile echoes hers, a pleasant silence stretched between them—but something in Claude expression twists into mischief, eyes alight with a scheme she can see forming there.  
  
He takes a step backward from the railing, keeping his eyes trained on her. “You know...I do recall at our last festival I had asked you to save a dance for me, Teach.”  
  
Her brows raise in surprise at the sudden change in topic—but it’s not long before her mind catches up, huffing a breath through her nose that could almost be considered a chuckle. “That was a while ago, even for me. How could you remember something like that?”  
  
There’s a curious flushed tint to Claude’s face—but none of his expression betrays any kind of discomfort. Instead he winks at her much like he always has, grin crinkling the corners of his eyes. “You don’t survive as long as me without a good memory. But that’s beside the point.”  
  
He sweeps out his arm before him, tossing his cape back as he bends at the waist in a theatrical bow. “May I ask you for another dance, my dear Teach?”  
  
Byleth shakes her head even as she closed the distance between them, unable to hide the amusement in her upturned lips. “What would we dance to?” It wasn’t as if there would be any celebrations today after the monastery had been long abandoned by the church.  
  
But Claude just laughs, raising her hand to his shoulder as his other hand rests lightly below her shoulder blade. “We can make up our own rhythm, can’t we?” With those words, Claude clasps her hand in a firm grip and begins to pull her forward.  
  
Claude had once claimed that he was no good at the “ _stuffy dances the nobles in Fódlan preferred”_ , but he leads her with a confidence that made her think he may have had more practice in these last five years. Or perhaps she had just gotten worse.  
  
However, with his guidance any floundering she felt initially quickly ebbs, easily falling into step with his. Her concentration on their dance erases doubt from the forefront of her mind. Instead she focuses on the sway of their movements, the reassuring grip on her hand, the heat of Claude’s body chasing away the chill of the night.  
  
And true to his word, they do make up their own rhythm. Claude begins to hum a rich tune for them to dance to, twirling her across the stones as if they were in a grand ballroom. She feels her smile grow at his impressive spins of their bodies, a giggle falling from her lips as he dips her low with a dramatic flair, letting the music on his lips reach a playful crescendo through the smile splitting his face.  
  
He lets his humming calm as their steps slow once again, their gazes locked as they smile at one another.  
  
It’s Byleth to close the scant distance between them, wrapping both her arms around him to place her head against his chest. Claude is quick to reciprocate, a hand gently pressed against her hair to keep her secure against him. His heartbeat is their new rhythm as he continues to gently sway their bodies, and she feels a peace blossom in her chest that she hadn’t known in a long while.  
  
“Thank you.” Her words are just loud enough for him to hear, pressing her face more into his warmth.  
  
Claude tucks her underneath his chin, his own words a rumble in his chest. “Welcome home, Byleth.”

* * *

The scene was completely different than the dance they had shared many moons ago, the sounds of whispered chatter providing cushion to the singing of strings that filled the air of the grandiose hall.  
  
But none of that mattered. They could be back atop the Goddess tower, or in a forest or even a battlefield. The world had dissolved around her, her only focus on the arms that held her so close, gaze only for the man who had swept her off her feet again and again.  
  
There was a wicked gleam in Claude’s eyes as he pulled her closer—one that always prefaced mischief. “As wonderful as this is, being here with you like this...I’ve always enjoyed dancing with you much more when there are fewer prying eyes around.”  
  
Byleth had no spare self-control to keep the smile off her lips. “I don’t believe it would be in good taste to sneak out of our own wedding.”  
  
She could feel the rumble of his laugh against her chest as he twirled her across the floor. “I don’t know. With such a title like _The Ruler of Dawn_ , _Her Majesty the Queen of a United Fódlan and Archbishop of the Church of Seiros_ , I don't know if many people would be able to oppose your decision.”  
  
There was a snort from her, unbecoming of her royal title at his words—only fueling the devilish look on her now-husband’s face. “Let us at least finish the formalities of a first dance to appease the people, mister _King of Unification_.” She leans in to press a feather-light kiss against his cheek, breathing her next words as a whisper just for him. “Then I’m sure I can be convinced to finish this dance of ours in our chambers, Claude.”  
  
The flush that bloomed across his cheeks at her words only made him more handsome, Byleth had to think. But even that thought was washed away by the unrestrained laughter he pulled from her lungs as he twirled her across the dance floor with a renewed vigor, as if his speed could goad the musicians into hurrying along.  
  
No matter the circumstance, she could only feel joy at being at home in his arms once again.

**Author's Note:**

> I have been derailed from finishing any fic by working on costumes and the constant slog of real life--but I was bound and determined to finish something before the end of the year. So, a late Christmas present from me to you! I really want to finish some prompts for an upcoming Claudeleth NSFW week, so this was a good exercise in writing in general.
> 
> Hello yes I'm still in love with Claude von Riegan please cry with me about him and Byleth @spotfast on twitter!


End file.
